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Back in the summer of 2010, I had gone down to Stanford to introduce myself to the Cardinal head coach. Harbaugh had turned around a middling program in dramatic fashion, and he was starting his third season at the helm.

Off I went to Palo Alto, hoping to get a few words before one of the team’s preseason practices. The Stanford PR man said Harbaugh would have a minute or two before practice, and there we were, waiting in the parking lot.

As the coach approached, I held out my hand and introduced myself. “Pleased to meet you, coach. Congratulations on your success.”

Harbaugh looked me in the eye and said, “You’re the guy that called me a punk. Chronicle, right? Yeah, you’re the guy who called me a punk.”

I was at a loss. I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about, so I assured him that wasn’t the case.

I turned to the PR man, who quietly suggested that maybe Coach Harbaugh had me confused with one of The Chronicle’s other columnists, perhaps Bruce Jenkins.

That’s when I remembered the slight. Jenkins had written a critical item about Harbaugh after the 2009 Big Game, which Cal won. It was critical, but fair, as I recalled.

Harbaugh had caused an uproar that week, brushing past Cal head coach Jeff Tedford in the postgame handshake. It was a harbinger of handshake high jinks to come. (See: Detroit postgame melee, 2011). And the Jenkins item in question criticized Harbaugh for his action in the Big Game, as well as his behavior during the previous game at USC. That was the game in which the Stanford coach went for a two-point conversion with a 48-21 lead late in the game. (It would be forever known as the “What’s your deal?” game, because of Trojans head coach Pete Carroll’s query during the … you guessed it … postgame handshake.)

To be specific, the column said Harbaugh “acted like a punk.” And that’s why I had an angry Harbaugh in my face, staring a hole through my skull with his jaw sticking out, even more than usual.

“Well, coach,” I yammered. “Um … I think … um … Bruce actually wrote something like you made a punk move. Or maybe that you ‘acted’ like a punk. I can’t quite remember … um … but I think he was referring to the two-point conversion thing at USC. … Or maybe the Cal game?” My voice trailed off, as the three of us settled into a profoundly uncomfortable silence.

Harbaugh wasn’t pleased. He turned and started jogging toward the field, our meeting over. About 10 yards away, he spun around and yelled, “Yeah, but you’re the editor.” And then he kept running.

Fair point, I thought, staring at Harbaugh as he crossed the field toward his waiting players.

Every 10 yards or so, he’d stop again, spin around and shout something in my general direction. I couldn’t quite make out his commentary, but I’m pretty sure the words “punk” and “Chronicle” were used repeatedly. The last part of Harbaugh’s communique came from about 50 yards away, with his index finger outstretched, poking imaginary holes in my chest.

I waved back and began to walk back to my car. The PR man mumbled something about Harbaugh being “that way” sometimes. I told him it was fine. Part of the territory when it comes to journalism, and I had endured much worse over the years.

Looking back on it, it was the perfect introduction to Harbaugh. Intense. Direct. Single-minded. Frustrating. In retrospect, I’m not even sure whether he was actually mad or just playing with my head. It was the most emotion I would ever see from a man who has become a cipher to the media since taking over the 49ers in 2011.

Misjudging the landscape

I remember thinking, when Harbaugh took the NFL job, that this wasn’t going to work. He was clearly a football genius, but how would he deal with the added scrutiny? There would be more people calling him a punk. And if he ever repeated his “you called me a punk” routine with any video cameras around, he would become a YouTube legend.

But I was dead wrong. Harbaugh has handled the bright lights with an attitude I’d call “reluctant ease.” The national media has gotten a full helping of terse with a side of clenched jaw during Super Bowl week. And, at other times, the 49ers’ head coach has been downright funny. You just don’t know what you’re going to get. Jim Harbaugh being Jim Harbaugh.

Bottom line: Covering this particular coach has been the best story a journalist could hope for. There is the element of genius. There are psychological undertones that would make for a fascinating case study. There is constant tension and drama. Even occasional humor.

Over the past two years, I find myself posting “Harbaughisms” on my Facebook page and telling people stories about his news conferences. He’s the most interesting person we cover in The Sporting Green.

I’d go a step further and venture that Harbaugh is the latest in a long line of great Bay Area characters we’ve covered here at The Chronicle, joining the likes of Bill Walsh and Steve Jobs and Willie Brown in terms of pure appeal.

So, thank you, Jim Harbaugh. You’re not a punk, even if you act pretty surly at times.

A few months after our initial “punk” exchange, I ran into Harbaugh at a banquet for the Bay Area Sports Hall of Fame. He was in a good mood so I approached and started a conversation. He was pretty friendly. I told him we should “hug it out” and move forward. He laughed and that was that. It has been cursory hellos and handshakes since then.

When asked during Super Bowl week whether he’s the type to remember slights, he stared down the reporter and answered, “Possibly.”

Acting like a punk

“Overall Big Game impression: As entertaining as any collegiate game played this season. It’s just too bad that Harbaugh acted like a punk – for the second straight week. Maybe some people enjoyed his attempt at a two-point conversion with a 48-21 lead over USC, but there’s no excusing his postgame “handshake” with Tedford. Not bothering to slow down, Harbaugh barely touched Tedford’s hand, didn’t even look at him, and hurried on. That’s just weak.”